After the World Ends
by Night Strider
Summary: Mitsui receives a letter from Fujima and tries to make head and tails with it. Recommended for philosophers. Warning: yaoi implications. One shot


After the World Ends

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Great. Nobody's home and nothing's on the table. No homework, no classes, and no practice for tomorrow. Life has probably reached its best, yet. Nothing's on the TV either, just a pair of pimped-up variety talk show hosts chattering away like tomorrow's about to find them dead and cold. I'm also thinking of suing the fag who did their make-up.

I check out the fridge and help myself to a can of beer. Lying on a sofa bed isn't an effective way to kill time so I decide to go upstairs to my room where I can take a decent nap. As I reach for my knapsack on the floor, grabbing it by the handle, a note falls from the slightly open side pocket. Oh, it's Fujima's invitation. I almost forgot. Another one persuading me to join this fall's basketball camp. Everybody's fretting about it like the Olympic games are storming Tokyo this week. Heck, give me a century to bother.

I unfold the letter and a couple of sentences loom from the white surface of the seamed paper: 'Meet me at Tom's Diner at 6:30. World's going to end if you delay. K.F.'

Kenji Fujima. World ends. Tom's Diner.

Doesn't make sense however you relocate the words. Why will the world end if I don't meet Shoyo's ace at 6:30 this afternoon at Tom's Diner? Instead of giving it the satisfaction of being shocked, I just sigh silently.

FLASHBACK: Earlier that day. 10:30 in the morning after practice game with team Shoyo.

KF: Nice game, Mitsui-san. Hope to play with your team again soon. Only I miss the intensity of Akagi's offense.

Me: Me, too. Ryota's not yet ready to be the new captain, but we're hanging on.

KF: I bet. And hey, this is for you.

He slips a rectangular note between my fingers and vanishes to their smoky locker room. I place it in my bag's pocket and throttle back to Shohoku with my precious team mates.

flashback ends.

Musing. My senses are attacked by rummaging particles that continuously drill through each core of my living cells. Playing it cool doesn't seem to work this time. It's 5:45. Exactly 45 minutes before Fujima and I save the world and probably a few hours away from a galactic explosion. Ridiculous. Five fucking billion years of existence and the earth's powdered to smithereens in less than an hour. Only two senior high students know about it. That would be a nice headline for Tokyo Today.

Well, better go to him now than to rot in this lair, have some heroic duty to perform.

Damn Fujima. Why does he have to write in riddles? What a retard. Can't believe he's still swinging out of his nuts like he's Son Gokou off to drive away alien invaders and save the world.

Never mind. Better that than nothing.

I take a shower and fit in to a casual attire; red shirt and black denim. I face the mirror and utter a three-letter word to describe the hunk in front of me: HOT.

I move stealthily out of the house and watch the clouds. No sign of Armageddon; no unidentified flying object, no battalion of Martians, no planetary collision, no extra-terrestrial dust. Everything's perfectly normal and the world's ending, so says he. Damn Fujima.

I pass through the park and Pachinko's. At the corner of the street stands the ever-so crowded Tom's Diner. No. It's not full this time, thank God. So not everything's normal after all.

Somebody waves at me; a brown-haired, golden-eyed someone.

'Mitsui-san, have a seat,' says Fujima, smiling.

I slouch opposite him.

'You've read my note?' he asks excitedly.

'Mmmh.' I nod. 'So which asteroid is hitting Japan this evening?' I ask, trying hard to voice out what must be the wicked irony I could be famous for.

He lets out a sharp, high-pitched laugh. Somebody stick a fork on his throat for crying out loud.

'Really funny joke. Something tells me of a good way to retaliate,' I say, not altering my former tone.

'Oh hoh, easy, Mitsui-san. I'm here for something more important. And so are you,' he says a-matter-of-factly.

'Right. And what could be more important than trying to postpone the destruction of the world?' I ask again. A steam of hot gases fumes from every aperture of my body.

'Plenty.' He answers, sipping a cup of strawberry milk.

I sit immotile, enduring anger in silence.

'Why don't we go outside and inhale some fresh air?' He offers. I want to hurl invectives but something stops me. What, I don't really know. I follow his suit.

We reach the park and he sits on the bench in the middle. I sit next to him, keeping a respectful distance. Courtesy asks me to.

'When you die, all the material things that you've come upon on earth will lose their significance as if they were never valuable at all. Wonder why that's so?' He asks me out of the blue. The stars are mirrored on his eyes like many faceted jewels; a flame of passion rages inside him. I feel his warmth as my body receives the coldness of his.

'Because you no longer have a body to attach those things with.' I answer in a very contrite manner.

'Mmmh...The soul needs nothing when separated from the body, from the physical. The latter is filled with shortcomings and fatality while the other, being indispensable, is perfect and needs no corporeal nourishment.'

Smart boy. I clam my mouth.

'The spirit and the body may live in harmony as one but as the latter withers, the soul takes over until the other is six feet below the ground. This is when the soul assumes absolute independence and control.' He continues wistfully.

'I can't make out a thing of what you're saying,' I say, now clearly, undeniably losing track of words.

'Simple. A hedonist is very energetic in his youth but as he reaches the age of 55 or 60, his body crumbles and fails to attend to his pleasure seeking activities. His body can take no more; it dries up until it leaves the world.'

'And what does it have to do with the world ending if I don't meet you here!' I shoot back angrily.

'We're through with that. I just want to tell you there's more to worry about than death. You see, your spinelessness brought you to me.' he says revealing the coward that I am.

'So that's it? In that case I had better be leaving. You owe me half an hour of my time,' I stand up, fighting the urge to crack his head open. What's wrong with this kid? If that's all he wants to tell me he could've just jotted it down with his loony message.

'Tsk tsk tsk. I thought you had the measure of it.' he says superciliously and goes on, 'The soul, my friend, is omnipotent but being encumbered by the body, its power becomes limited for as long as the union lasts. Now tell me, what is there to fear in their division? Which do you prefer; the pleasure of the body or the privilege of the soul?' He now glares at me. A beam from the light of his eyes sweeps my cognitive functions. I begin to lose all rationale, at least all of I have left.

'You make me sick. I ain't playing Batman and Robin with you to save any goddamn city or world. Stay away from me and forget about any practice game,' I jolt and turn away.

'You don't answer, you lose the game,' he says coolly.

'And the world ends. Got it.' I answer sarcastically and move away.

He grabs my arm and pulls me closer. My lips tremble, the background submerges, and the sky fades to the deepest void. Only he and I remain intact.

'Body or soul?' he asks again. His voice like water falling from a rock.

'Body.' I answer. I have my own reasons; I'm afraid of death.

'Very well. You can sleep with me.' He says without a trace of uneasiness or embarrassment.

Silence. Madness. Dementia on the brink of explosion.

'You'll regret it if you don't, for you come to attribute to your own body the value of the soul. A body must satisfy its needs and desires for as long as it breathes; it needs physical sustenance, i.e. the sensual pleasure you obtain from making love. It isn't like the soul. Carpe diem, Mitsui.' he insists, no longer calm and gentle but fierce and frightening.

'I'll go find you a gigolo if you're that horny to go on talking rubbish. There's plenty along the highway,' I say to him.

'You make so much fuss about death and yet you know nothing about life. But you know, when you utilize the power of your body properly all fears regarding the solitary existence of your soul begin to melt. When that happens, you start to live your life to the fullest, wasting no time and energy; there'd be no more reason to be afraid of death 'cos you've done well during mortal life, now, yes or no?'

I think.

What a pusillanimous creature have I been fearing death? I came here seeking an answer, slightly believing the world was indeed ending. Hilarious. If Sakuragi were here...No. This is absurd. Sleeping with a fellow athlete just because you're scared is unthinkable. And yet he reasons, therefore, he is. If I die content with my life, experiencing all I want to, then death may not be so bad after all. Even his offer isn't so bad after all. Well, "seize the day" as they say in Dead Poets Society.

'Okay, fine,' I answer finally as Kenji Fujima smiles and leads me to the nearest hotel building.

-END-


End file.
